


The Truth is Hard to Swallow

by autumnl3aves



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gay, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Post-War, Therapy, Veritaserum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26582653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnl3aves/pseuds/autumnl3aves
Summary: Harry hoped that when he returned to Hogwarts for his eighth year things would be peaceful. However, mandatory group counseling, a vertiserum fueled party game, and a certain distracting blonde mean this year is shaping up to be anything but relaxing.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 28
Kudos: 268





	1. Chapter 1

“Harry are you listening to me?” Hermione’s voice in his ear broke through Harry’s reverie. “Merlin, you keep daydreaming like that, are you sure you’re okay?” 

Harry picked up his spoon and swirled it in his porridge. Ever since he decided to come back to Hogwarts for his eighth year Hermione had taken it upon herself to make sure he was alright being back at the castle. He sighed and ran his hand through his messy hair. 

“Yes, Hermione you really don’t need to keep asking. It’s just going to take some time to get used to being here,” he gestured around the Great Hall, which was bustling with the sounds of clinking utensils and morning chatter, wearily. “So much happened here…” he trailed off.

Hermione watched him for a moment and then nodded, as if she had decided something. “Okay,” she said simply and returned to her cup of tea.

Harry meant what he said. He did feel happy to be back at Hogwarts. He felt almost like a first year again, he was genuinely excited to experience life at school without the weight of an evil wizard and an impending war overshadowing his experiences. This was the first year he felt he could just be Harry, an eighteen year old bloke who had no idea what the hell he was doing. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard. Sure, he had grieved all summer but he’d also managed to have some fun. Going out to pubs with Ron and Hermione, playing quidditch with the Weasleys, and traveling outside of the country for the first time to visit Charlie and his dragons had made him feel alive in ways he couldn’t have imagined before. But being back where so many of his friends had died made him feel the loss all over again. It was like poking a healing wound. That would take time to get over, Hermione had to understand that.

Ron and Seamus clamored over and interrupted Harry’s reflection. “Mate, have you gotten your schedule yet?” Seamus asked breathlessly as he swung himself onto the bench at the Gryffindor table. Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged and grabbed for the bacon. “Er no I haven’t,” Harry laughed, “But I reckon after seven years I pretty much know what’ll be on it.”

Seamus shook his head darkly. “No, mate. No you don’t.” At this Hermione raised her eyebrows. “A new class?” Her voice was hopeful. “Oh my goodness I hope they decided to take my suggestion to start teaching indigenous magic seriously. I think learning those histories is so important...” The rest of her rant was lost to Harry as he picked up the schedule a nervous-looking fourth year had just placed in front of him. 

There, in bold red ink in the first slot of the day was something that made his stomach drop.

“Nine Am to Ten Am: Group Counseling: Victims of Violent Trauma.”

“No Hermione,” he said weakly. “It’s not indigenous magic.” 

Hermione was looking at her own sheet of parchment with an intense gaze and a noticeably pale face. 

“Right, well. I guess this makes sense,” she said slowly. “This is a good thing,” she reassured herself. “This can only be a good thing.” 

Ron groaned and banged his head against the table. “Group counseling for those who lost family members? Bloody hell.”

Harry looked up sharply and grabbed Ron’s parchment. Sure enough, where Harry’s said “Victims of Violent Trauma,” Ron’s said “Those Who Lost Family Members.”

“Fuck.” 

Seamus quirked an eyebrow, “Hey now Harry just because you’re our saviour and all that doesn’t mean you can go around offending the sensibilities of the ickle little first years now does it?”

Harry ignored him and grabbed for Hermione’s schedule. He read the words at the top of her parchment and sighed in relief.

“We’re in the same group,” he said, not fully processing just how much better he felt knowing that Hermione would be with him. Hermione, as usual, was one step ahead. “Yes, I figured dying would count as violent trauma,” she said wryly. “Shall we?”

Harry took a sip of pumpkin juice to steady himself and rose from the table, saying a glum good-bye to Ron and contemplating just walking to the gates and apparating away. He could help George at the shop or try out for professional Quidditch or take Kingsley up on his offer to join the aurors sans NEWTS…. No no. He wanted to see this through, he wanted to finish Hogwarts properly. He deserved that much.

Harry was so deep in thought he didn’t notice they had arrived at their designated classroom until Hermione was pushing open the heavy wooden door. There was a circle of five chairs in the middle of the classroom and one was occupied by a familiar face.

“Luna!” Harry exclaimed. 

“Oh hi there,” Luna replied in her lilting voice. “I should have known you two would be here as well.”

“Yup,” Harry quipped, feeling grateful to have another person he knew and loved in the group. “We the lucky few.”

Luna smiled serenely and looked toward the remaining two chairs. 

“I’d assume one of those chairs is for our Healer. I wonder who the other student assigned to this group is?”

They didn’t have long to espouse theories. Just then the door creaked open and there on the other side was another utterly familiar face.

Harry had one second to think that he probably should have walked out the front gates and apparated away while he had the chance, before he leapt to his feet.

“Malfoy, what the HELL do you think you’re doing here?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Descriptions of violence and torture.

Harry didn’t realize he was standing until he felt Hermione’s hand on his shoulder. “Harry, it’s really okay.” She guided him towards his seat.

Harry shook his head. He hadn’t seen Malfoy since the trials at the beginning of the summer, during which he had testified on Malfoy’s behalf. Hours upon hours answering probing questions about their relationship made Harry realize he hadn’t felt anything close to hatred towards Malfoy in a very long time. Since the moment he saw him crying in the bathroom in sixth year and understood Malfoy probably had a better idea of the pressure Harry was under than anyone else he went to school with, if he was being honest with himself. No, Harry had come into this school year having actively decided to try to be civil to Draco Malfoy. But civility and sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings were two entirely different beasts.

Harry noticed the room was still silent and that Luna and Hermione were both staring at him. Hermione had a look of concern on her face while Luna had something else, an almost knowing glint in her eye. He shook his head again and turned towards Malfoy. 

“Sorry, that was rude. Welcome to the most coveted counseling group, Malfoy,” Harry’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Malfoy’s face shifted through a few different emotions before he schooled it into its familiar icy smirk. “Thanks, I’ve always been terribly lucky,” his word choice echoed Harry’s earlier joke.

Hermione and Harry let out a breath neither of them knew they had been holding as Malfoy took the seat in between Harry and Luna. Harry had only a moment to process this decision before a cheery young witch practically skipped to the last remaining chair in the circle, between Hermione and Luna.

“Hello, everybody.” She tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. “I’m Healer Catherine Gray, you may call me Healer Catherine.” She smiled at their awkwardly mumbled hellos, and smoothed her light green Healer’s robes.

“Now I know you probably aren’t thrilled to be here, but I promise you will come out of this feeling better than you do right now. And that’s something isn’t it?”

Healer Catherine was met with silence, but her positivity wasn’t deterred in the slightest. She smiled widely and looked them each in the eyes. Malfoy cleared his throat and Harry thought the sound he made was suspiciously similar to “Hufflepuff,” but he couldn’t be certain.

“Okay, so of course you all know each other,” Healer Catherine brightly continued. “But I don’t know any of you. So why don’t we start by sharing our names and let’s see….” she pulled out a parchment with some notes on it and a quill. 

“Let’s dive right in shall we? Share your lowest point from the past year and something that gave you hope.”

Hermione clutched the strap of her bag so hard her knuckles went white. Even placid Luna looked vaguely ill. 

“Healer Catherine,” Harry started. “My name is Harry, and er- I was wondering, is that really necessary?” 

In the time it took for Harry to finish the question, the witch across the circle had lost every drop of the jovialness that she had been positively radiating just second before.

“I’m afraid, Harry, we must talk about the most difficult things. After all, how will we learn to trust each other and heal?” 

She turned towards the group and clapped, sliding back into that jubilant personality like a second skin. 

“Oh dear,” she smiled. “I almost forgot to explain. Everything you say in this room is completely confidential. I have taken an unbreakable vow not to share what you say in this room. You do not have to take that vow, however if you do try to speak, write or otherwise communicate something that one of your classmates shared in the confines of this circle of trust, you will find yourself unable to. You simply will not be able to share their secret. There are no exceptions to this rule. I know some of you,” she glanced at Harry and Hermione, “participated in events that are still not known to the general public in order to win the war. I would assume those events and information about what you did, is necessary context for your healing, so you are encouraged to share that with us when needed.”

The four students nodded solemnly and Harry slumped in his seat. Not even ten am on the first day of class and already he was exhausted by this school year.

“Now,” Healer Catherine shook out her sheet of parchment and readied her quill, “Luna, why don’t you begin.”

“Okay,” came Luna’s familiar voice. “Well, my name is Luna,” she said uncertainly. Healer Catherine nodded encouragingly. 

“And I suppose my lowest point came while I was being held captive in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor.” Harry glanced at Malfoy and was surprised to find he and Luna holding steady eye contact. 

“It was after my father had tried to turn Harry, Ron, and Hermione in,” Luna faltered and her eyes grew watery as she turned towards Harry and Hermione. “I really am sorry about that, you know. I can’t believe he did that to my..” she hiccuped. “To my friends.”

“Luna it’s alright,” Harry said at the same time as Hermione said, “We understand.” A memory of Luna’s bedroom ceiling flashed in Harry’s brain. 

Healer Catherine produced a handkerchief from her robes and handed it to Luna. “You are doing splendidly dear, please continue if you are able.”

“Right so, my father tried to turn them in but they got away. The Death Eaters did see the three of them which was very lucky,” Harry looked at Hermione and thanked his lucky stars for the wisdom of Hermione Granger for the one thousanth time in his seven years of knowing her. It was her quick thinking that had allowed the Death Eaters just a glimpse to confirm that Luna’s dad wasn’t lying.

“But they were still quite upset. He-Who- I mean Voldemort, was really angry so he tortured some of the Death Eaters who went to my home when they came back empty handed. Then they needed an outlet for their hurt and anger.”

Luna stopped then and Harry was surprised to see Malfoy reach out and grab her hand. This seemed to give Luna the strength to continue.

“So they did the cruciatus on me a few times which was nothing new,” she said with a watery smile as Harry shuddered. “The worst bit was that they had taken a few of my dad’s hairs when they went to my house and they, well they, kidnapped some muggles and fed them Polyjuice and….” 

She faltered again and Harry watched as Malfoy dragged his chair closer to hers. “It’s okay,” Harry heard him murmur and was hit with the sick realization that Malfoy had probably also witnessed whatever Luna was about to explain. It felt like a punch to the gut that Harry couldn’t quite explain.

“Right well,” Luna swallowed. “They made me watch as they killed them. Innocent muggles who looked like my father. They killed them one by one and then they made me carry the bodies up the stairs.” She trembled and seemed to curl into herself. 

“I wanted to die that night,” Luna’s kind eyes were wide and Harry noticed for the first time the darkness in them that hadn’t been there before last year. Even sweet Luna had been changed by the war.

“Thank you for sharing this with us Luna,” Healer Catherine was decidedly less cheerful than she had been at the outset of this session. Harry swore he saw her hand shake as she leaned forward. “And if you don’t mind, can you share with us something that gave you hope?”

Luna brightened slightly. “Oh yes,” she said. “That would be Draco, of course.” Malfoy stiffened and Harry watched a subtle pinkness tinge his cheeks.

Draco Malfoy blushing would have caused Harry great joy just a few years ago, but after hearing Luna’s story Harry couldn’t have felt less joyful.

“Oh lovely,” beamed Healer Catherine. “How lovely that someone who supported you is in your counseling group.”

“Yes,” Luna agreed. “If it wasn’t for Draco’s help on that night or throughout my imprisonment I most certainly would have died. He snuck us food, he brought us blankets, he cast cleaning charms on us so we could be comfortable. When Mr. Ollivander grew ill, Draco managed to get him medicine. And he cast healing charms on me and numbing charms whenever I was sick from the torture. I know all of this was at great personal risk.”

At this Malfoy cut in. “It really wasn’t,” he muttered, his face still tinged with embarrassment. “Anyone would have done it.” 

“No, Draco,” Luna replied softly. “I heard what they did to you the night you were caught. I heard your screams and I heard your cries. Very few people would be so brave.” Now it was Luna’s turn to grab Malfoy’s hand. “Thank you, Draco.”

Malfoy looked at her with a deluge of emotions on his face. Finally he shut his eyes, sighed and gave in. “You’re welcome, Luna.” 

Healer Catherine was exuberant. “What a breakthrough,” she applauded and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. He had a feeling this healer didn’t quite understand the darkness of the past year. She’s in for a surprise, he thought wryly. 

“Well Draco, this seems like a perfect segue for you to speak. Why don’t you share?”

If Harry hadn’t been next to him, he wouldn’t have noticed, but since he was only a few feet away from Malfoy’s chair, he noticed the blonde’s breath come faster and his hands clutch the edge of the seat.

“You can tell them about him, Draco,” Luna’s dreamy voice cut through Malfoy’s apparent panic. Malfoy nodded but still didn’t speak. Malfoy and Luna must have talked while she was a prisoner then, Harry mused. It made sense and to Harry’s surprise he felt nothing but gratitude at the thought of Luna having a companion during that terrible time.

“Right, well I don’t know if this is cheating because my lowest point really began the summer before sixth year so it was a few years ago,” Malfoy attempted a smirk but it read as more of a grimace. 

“No, no please do share,” Healer Catherine replied.

“Okay well. The summer before our sixth year was both the best and the worst time of my life,” Malfoy ran a hand through his wavy blonde hair and let out a breath. 

“I fell in love,” he said simply and Harry found himself leaning forward. “I fell in love with a boy from my village who was smart and had a wicked sense of humor and he was bloody good looking too,” Malfoy smiled at the memory of this boy and Harry’s skin prickled. He’d never seen Malfoy smile like that before, it lit up his entire face.

“The problem was, he was a muggle.” A shocked squeak from Hermione interrupted Malfoy’s story. The pale boy met her eyes. “Yes, Granger. Surely you noticed I stopped calling you awful slurs around fourth year?” Hermione nodded with wide eyes. “I don’t hate muggles or muggleborns, I was merely raised to hate them. Once I was able to form my own opinions on the world I realized what bigots my parents are. I still love them, they’re still my parents, but I will never agree with them on that,” Hermione nodded.

“And I’m sorry, Granger. I am so sorry for all the awful things I said to you.” 

To Harry’s surprise Hermione didn’t hesitate. “Thank you, Draco. I accept your apology and I forgave you a while ago.” A ghost of a smile played on Malfoy’s lips. “Well if you’re calling me Draco, I suppose I can call you Hermione.” 

“I’d like that,” Harry’s best friend responded. Harry felt like an outsider watching a play that was progressing without him, but he didn’t find he minded too much.

“Wonderful,” Healer Catherine cut in. “Now let’s get back on track, shall we?” She said pointedly towards Malfoy.

“Right okay, well I fell in love and it was the best, I had never felt so happy before. But I knew it couldn’t last. That summer after the stunt you lot pulled at the ministry,” Draco gestured to his three fellow students, “my father was in Azkaban and Voldemort was very, very angry. He moved into my home a few weeks after I told my boyfriend I loved him for the first and I knew I had to end things.”

“Why?” Healer Catherine seemed so genuinely confused that Harry snorted. “If Voldemort found out that Malfoy cared for this boy so much, that he loved this person, he would certainly use it against him. The fact that the boy was a muggle means he was even more expendable. If Malfoy really loved him he had to end things in order to save his life.”

Malfoy cocked his head at Harry and something flickered in his eyes, “Got it in one, Potter.” 

Harry nodded and looked at his hands.

“Voldemort wanted me to join him. He wanted me to become a Death Eater and I wanted no part of it. But he threatened to kill my mother,” Malfoy’s voice had taken on an emotionless cadence, as if this hurt too much to talk about so he was shutting himself out. “He tortured her one night, and there was nothing I could do. I had to take the mark to get him to stop.” Malfoy’s eyes were trained on a fleck of dirt on the floor as he continued, his voice quiet but piercing in the silence of the room. 

“I decided I’d rather die,” he whispered. “I decided to drink poison that night after he gave me the mark.”

Malfoy’s hands were balled into fists at his sides. “But it didn’t work. You see, Voldemort is a tricky motherfucker and there is some dark magic in the mark that prevents you from offing yourself after you take it.”

Harry realized he had been clenching his jaw for the entirety of Malfoy’s story, so he forced himself to relax. “I thought you wanted it,” the words came out before Harry could stop them. “I thought you were proud.”

Malfoy’s grey eyes found Harry’s and Harry was shocked to see they were full of pity. “No, Potter,” he said smoothly. “That was all an act. An act of survival.”

Harry nodded and looked back at his hands, while Malfoy gathered himself.

“They found me in my room after I drank the poison and I was incredibly weak,” the blonde was trembling now. “Normally I am quite good at occlumency but in this state I couldn’t keep him out,” he shuddered.

“He saw everything. He saw our first kiss, our first argument, when we lost our virginities to each other, every time we fucked after that, us in our favorite pub, our first time saying we loved each other,” tears streamed down Malfoy’s face now and Luna once again gently grabbed his hand.

“He also saw me obliviate him,” the words came out so fast that if not for Hermione’s gulping sob, Harry would have thought he heard them incorrectly.

“I wiped his memory of me,” Malfoy said miserably. “I thought it would protect him.” 

The room was silent. Even Healer Catherine had nothing to say.

“Did it?” Harry asked cautiously. “Did it protect him?”

Malfoy turned to Harry with a blank expression. “They made me watch as they tortured him to death. He didn’t even recognize me.” The only sound was the shaking crying of the three women in the room as the two wizards maintained eye contact. Harry felt like he’d been hit in the stomach with a bludger. The Malfoy he cursed in sixth year had been going through this? He felt sick.

Hermione’s face was buried in her hands and her shoulders shook as she sobbed. “I did that too,” she cried. “I did the same thing and they’ll never know who I am,”

Malfoy looked from Hermione to Harry, the confusion plain on his face. “It’s okay ‘Mione,” Harry patted her back. “You made the right decision. They are safe.”

“Hermione dear, would you mind sharing with the group why Draco’s story impacted you so?” Healer Catherine inquired, a bit tactlessly in Harry’s opinion but he supposed that was part of the job.

Hermione dried her eyes on the sleeve of her robe and looked up. “I did the same thing as Draco,” she said with tears still coming fast. “I obliviated my parents, who are muggles, in order to protect them. I gave them the urge to move to Australia and so they did. They have no memory of ever having a daughter.”

Malfoy stood with a look of grim understanding and walked across the circle to Hermione. He crouched in front of her and grabbed both of her hands. 

“Hermione, listen to me. I was there. I heard them talk about all the horrific things they would do to your parents if they found them. They went to your home and destroyed it. They burned it to the ground after they found it empty. You made the right decision. You saved their lives.”

Just when Harry thought this session couldn’t get stranger, Hermione Granger wrapped Draco Malfoy in a crushing hug. “Thank you, Draco, thank you.” she repeated to the bewildered Slytherin.

As Malfoy awkwardly brought himself to hug Hermione back, Harry could have sworn he heard Healer Catherine mutter, “they were only children, my goodness.” This woman was definitely in over her head, he decided.

Healer Catherine gathered herself enough to thank Hermione for sharing and to ask Malfoy to share the event that gave him hope. 

“There weren’t many reasons to feel hopeful for a long time,” Malfoy began. “But the thing that gave me the most hope last year was the look on my Aunt Bellatrix’s face when she found out Potter, Granger and Weasley had robbed her Gringotts vault.”

Malfoy looked over at Harry with a smirk and Harry found himself grinning back. “She was scared and Aunt Bella was never, ever scared.” He twisted his wand in his pale hands. “That’s when I knew those Gryffndor idiots had a real shot of defeating the bastard.”

Harry’s heart felt light at this admission from none other than Draco Malfoy, “Hey, Hermione’s no idiot,” he chuckled. 

“Fair enough,” Malfoy replied. “I’ll amend my previous statement to Gryffindor idiots plus Granger.”

Healer Catherine looked back and forth between Harry and Malfoy with a bewildered expression. 

“Right, well Hermione. Would you like to share?”

Hermione sat up straighter and swallowed. Harry watched her eyes grow steely as she braced herself to share her story. He knew a lot of people were confused to this day about why Hermione wasn’t sorted into Ravenclaw, but Harry thought that fiery look in her eyes was pure Gryffndor. 

“Yes, Healer Catherine,” Hermione responded in a steady voice. “I will share,” she picked at a loose thread on her robe with one hand.

“Well, I suppose this one won’t come as a surprise to any of you since you all bore witness to my lowest point,” Hermione said with a wobbly smile. She didn’t spare a glance for the healer who looked more than a little surprised by this admission. 

“When Harry, Ron and I were captured by snatchers in the Forest of Dean we were brought to Malfoy Manor,” she began. “I quickly cast some jinxes on us in the hopes that if our faces were swollen we wouldn’t be as recognizable.” The thread she was pulling from her robes grew steadily longer.

“When we arrived, the Death Eaters there thought it was us but they weren’t certain because of the jinxes. They didn’t want to call Voldemort if it wasn’t us, because they had witnessed the punishments for the false alarm at the Lovegoods’ home,” Hermione continued. “They decided to call Draco in to identify us, since he went to school with us for six years.” Harry felt Malfoy’s body stiffen next to him as Hermione ploughed on with the story.

“Draco recognized us, I know he did,” Hermione looked at Draco as if daring him to deny it. He didn’t. “But he said he wasn’t sure. He looked in their eyes and he lied for us.”

Harry knew that Malfoy had done this, of course, he had been there, after all. But he suddenly realized he had never properly said thank you to his classmate. There was so much to do after the war was over, it had slipped his mind. He felt a surge of overwhelming guilt.

“I never thanked you,” Harry’s voice sounded hoarse to his ears. “Thank you, Malfoy, thank you for helping us.” 

Malfoy’s eyebrows rose but he took the gratitude in stride. “You’re welcome Potter. I suppose I owe you thanks as well. You know, for finishing the job,” he gave a vague gesture with his hands and Harry found himself smiling, once again, at the blonde boy.

“Anytime.” 

Healer Catherine spoke up then, looking around the group with a furrowed brow. “I don’t think I realized just how much you all had been through together,” she said. “I knew you had been through some awful things, but…” she trailed off.

“With all due respect, Healer,” Harry tried to sound as sincere as possible. “What you are hearing today isn’t even the half of it.”

Hermione patted the healer’s hand in a comforting gesture. “It really and truly isn’t,” she agreed.

Harry felt Malfoy shaking next to him and a spike of panic rose in him. Was that the wrong thing to say? Was Malfoy upset?

He turned to the boy next to him and relief swept through his stomach. It was laughter. Malfoy’s shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. The sight of Draco Malfoy trying and failing to hold in his laughter at their overwhelmed healer broke Harry. He let out a small chuckle and within seconds found himself clutching his stomach as the laughter took over.

He looked up to find Hermione and Luna both losing it themselves, and Malfoy wiping literal tears of mirth from his eyes. The whole room was filled with the sound.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so true,” Malfoy sputtered, slapping his hand on his thigh. “You feel shocked after less than an hour of listening to our stories,” he wiped his eyes again. “We lived this. You’re an adult. Where were you?”

Harry guffawed at that dark sentiment, feeling a kinship with Malfoy in that moment. He’d had that exact thought several times over the summer when faced with the pitying eyes of an adult witch or wizard. “Where were you? I was a child,” he’d ask. They never had a good answer.

Healer Catherine looked angry for a moment before she pulled on her cheerful mask once more. “Can I ask, in the interest of time, that Hermione please continue?” Her voice sounded a bit more strained than it had before.

“Okay, yes. Well Draco refused to identify us and Bellatrix and Draco’s parents were trying to decide what to do, when Bellatrix noticed the Sword of Gryffindor. She was really upset that it was in our possession because -” Hermione cut off abruptly and glanced at Harry. He shrugged at her as if to communicate “If you must.” 

Harry tuned out Hermione’s very rudimentary description of Horcruxes and the necessity of the sword and took the time to glance around the room. Luna looked interested but not totally surprised by what Hermione was saying. Figures, he thought. Luna is brilliant. She probably put most of this together herself while they were staying at Shell Cottage.

He turned to Mafloy and started when he saw cool grey eyes blinking back at him. Malfoy didn’t seem at all shocked by Hermione’s words. Harry raised his eyebrows in a wordless question. You knew about this? Malfoy gave him a short nod. Interesting.

He turned back to Hermione and the truly astonished healer in time to hear Hermione say, “So they took Ron and Harry to the dungeons and they kept me.”

Harry swallowed. He didn’t actually know the details of this part. He had heard Hermione’s screams and of course, knew what had happened to her in the drawing room but she hadn’t talked about it much. He knew Ron knew more than he did, but he wasn’t sure Hermione had shared the entire story with anybody.

“She t-tor-tortured me,” Hermione stuttered. “It was the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. I’d had cruciatius done on me before but this, this was so much worse. I don’t know why.”

“My Aunt Bella used an ancient, dark form of cruciatus that most wizards don’t know about,” Draco said quietly. “It is much, much more powerful,”

Hermione stared at him for a moment. “Oh,” she whispered. “All this time I thought I was just weak,” she looked at her hands.

Harry could tell this admission was difficult for Hermione. “‘Mione, you’re the strongest witch I know.”

Hermione met Harry’s eyes and continued, “Well I knew I couldn’t tell her we knew about the horcruxes because everything would be all over if he found out. He’d hide the remaining ones and we could never defeat him. I was in so much pain, but I had my wits about me enough to know that I had to die before I gave her that information.”

Harry closed his eyes. This made sense. He just hadn’t thought about any of this, which made him feel immensely guilty. Hermione always knew what he was feeling - sometimes even before he did himself, and he hadn’t really thought about any of this. About how Hermione had been ready to literally die rather than betray him. It made him want to throw up, but also hug her. He settled for the second option and wrapped his arms around his closest friend.

“I didn’t think of any of this, I’m sorry I didn’t ask you,” he whispered into her hair. 

“Harry please,” she pulled back to look into his green eyes. “You’re a good friend. You’re a good person. Don’t do this.” He swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I barely felt her cast the spell the last time. I don’t think I even made a sound. She left me there shaking, in a pool of my own vomit and blood, while she went to summon Voldemort.” 

Hermione looked up and her eyes landed on Malfoy. “This is the hopeful part,” she gave a wavering smile. “The thing that gave me hope is the same thing that gave Luna hope - Draco Malfoy.”

Harry froze. What? Why hadn’t Hermione mentioned this? He hadn’t asked. He just hadn't asked.

It was as if Hermione read Harry’s thoughts. She turned to him and said, “I have never told anybody about this, not even Ron. When I was lying there I desperately wanted to give in. My entire body was screaming at me to close my eyes. But I also knew that if you lose consciousness after a cruciatus curse the likelihood of your brain being irrerparilby damaged increases tenfold. So I was fighting it with everything I had.” 

Her brown eyes sought Malfoy’s again, “I didn’t have much fight left though,” her voice was barely above a whisper. “Draco must have sensed that and he approached me, which I know was a risk for him. His parents and Bellatrix were in the adjoining room,” Hermione’s eyes burned into Malfoy’s and for the second time that day Harry found himself holding his breath.

“He grabbed my hand and he said, “Hermione Granger, you keep those eyes open. If you die here tonight I’ll be the number one student in our class and we both know I don’t deserve that,” Hermione chuckled softly at the memory. “He said, “Plus, if you leave Weasley and Potter to fight the Dark Lord on their own you know we haven’t got a prayer. And I really, really need you lot to defeat him. So stay awake now, please stay awake.”

The room was once again silent for a few minutes as Hermione’s words sunk in. “So thank you, Draco. For everything that day.”

Malfoy’s voice came out a bit raspy and Harry figured he was trying not to cry. “You’re welcome, Hermione.”

Healer Catherine’s shaky voice interrupted the moment, again. “We have only ten minutes left. Why don’t you begin, Harry and if you don’t finish, we will continue with your story next week.”

“Oh, I don’t think mine will take so long, Healer Catherine,” Harry replied.

“My darkest moment last year was when I died. The thing that gave me hope was getting to speak with my parents, my godfather, Sirius Black, and my mentor, Remus Lupin, before I died. They made me feel safe,” Harry spoke quickly and looked expectantly across the circle at the healer.

“Harry, I understand you went through a lot last year but I think that it is a little disrespectful to your peers who have shared so honestly and openly over the past hour to speak to us in metaphor and not in plain truths,” the Healer said sharply. “Since you sit across from me very much alive, you clearly did not die. Why don’t you give us the courtesy of explaining what you mean.”

Harry looked at her with pity, once again. “Healer Catherine,” he said carefully. “Not many people know this. In fact there are only two people in the world who know this, one of whom is sitting next to me,” he grabbed Hermione’s hand. “But I really did die, I’m sorry if the truth is difficult, but it is the truth.”

The color drained out of the Healer’s face and he felt Malfoy’s mouth next to him drop open. 

Luna didn’t look surprised. “I knew there was a deeper wisdom about you this year Harry,” she explained. “It suits you.”

“Thanks, Luna,” Harry responded gratefully. 

“When I walked to the Forbidden Forest on the night of the battle I knew I had to die,” Harry began shakily. “I had just watched some memories that Severus left me before he died and they made it clear that in order for Voldemort to die, I had to die. You see, there was a piece of his soul within me, so as long as I survived, he was unstoppable.”

Malfoy hadn’t closed his mouth yet and Hermione squeezed Harry’s hand for him to continue. “I was so afraid,” Harry whispered. “I didn’t say good-bye to anyone I loved because I didn’t think I’d be able to hold them or look at them and carry on with it,” his mouth was dry. He’d never talked about this part to anyone. 

“I walked across the lawn and I remembered what Dumbledore had left me when he died,” Harry explained about the resurrection stone and about seeing his parents and even about how he had asked if dying hurt. He was embarrassed by that childish question but it felt good to tell people about it. Hermione started openly weeping when he admitted that had been a concern of his.

“They stayed with me,” he continued. “I felt better knowing that all my parental figures were there and that when I died I’d get to be with them again. I walked into the forest and Voldemort was there. Hagrid was there too and the noise he made when he saw me still makes me want to vomit when I think about it,” Harry shuddered and Hermione wept louder. “I didn’t raise my wand, I just stood there waiting for him to do it. And then he did. It was the same flash of green as the light that killed my parents, and Cedric, and Sirius,” Harry faltered for a second, trying to think of how to explain what happened next.

Draco Malfoy leapt to his feet. “You DIED?” he screamed. “You sacrificed your life for us and NO ONE KNOWS?” spit flew from his mouth. “You wanker, bloody selfless, brave wanker, I CANNOT believe you did that, I just….” Malfoy stopped, breathing hard. “My mother was there, of course, but she told me you had just been knocked unconscious,” he stared at Harry hard.

“I cannot believe people don’t know about this.” 

Harry looked down, embarrassed. “I didn’t want the attention, I didn’t want any of the thank yous and the “we owe you our lives Mr. Potter,” I just want to have a normal year.”

“Fuck,” Malfoy said weakly. “Well I won’t say it again then, but I do need to say it once, “Thank you, Harry.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Luna smiled. “Thank you, Harry,” Hermione said through her tears. 

All four of them turned to their healer for the first time in a few minutes. The friendly healer was passed out in her chair.

“Shock must have done her in,” Luna said gravely. 

“Surprised she lasted this long,” Malfoy responded as he packed up his bags. “Time is up anyway, shall we?” He gestured to the door.

Harry shook his head and got up to follow. This was going to be a strange year.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days passed in the usual flurry of activity that defined the first days of the term. Things were different, of course they were different. There were moments that would silence an entire corridor of students, like when Dennis Creevey burst into tears as he passed the spot where his brother had died. But there were also moments that made Harry’s heart feel full to bursting, like when Ginny asked Luna out in front of the whole Great Hall at dinner and Luna kissed her senseless in response.

Sometimes change was good.

And then there were some things that just didn’t change, like Harry’s inability to wake up on time. By the first Friday of term Harry had already sunk back into his old habit of sleeping until the last possible second and rushing directly to his first class. His stomach was never grateful, but those precious moments of extra sleep were worth it, especially when nightmares often interrupted his rest. 

It didn’t help that on that particular day he had his second counseling session first thing, which made the call of his warm four poster bed all the more enticing. 

Harry dragged himself out of bed and over to his mirror. Having a single room was a major benefit of being a returning eighth-year. McGonagall had been apologetic about the fact that the eighth years couldn’t stay in their crowded houses and had given them each their own rooms as consolation. Harry was secretly glad to not have to face Gryffindor tower. There was too much history there and besides, as he learned over the summer, during which he spent several weeks on his own at Grimmauld Place, he liked having his own space. 

With a dramatic yawn Harry pulled on his favorite pair of dark jeans and his white collared uniform shirt to go under his robes. That was another thing he had accomplished this summer - he finally bought clothing that fit him.

His logic had been that no men would want to sleep with him if he still wore his cousin’s hand-me-downs and he had to say, the logic was sound.

Oh yes, Harry Potter fully took advantage of the freedom that came with people no longer worrying about an evil wizard trying to kill him.

On the first night that he, Ron and, Hermione found themselves alone at Grimmauld Place they had gotten egregiously drunk. It was after almost an entire bottle of firewhiskey between them that Hermione stood on wobbly legs and announced that she wanted to go dancing. 

Ron and Harry were never ones to argue with a determined Hermione, so they just trailed after her with glazed grins as she marched out the front door of number twelve and into the streets of London. They entered the first club they came upon and Harry’s heart nearly stopped.

There were people everywhere. Against the bar, on the dance floor, crowded around little tables. The music thrummed and it smelled like sweat but he really didn’t hate it at all. 

“Hermione,” Ron had croaked, “I think this is a gay bar.” 

Hermione had smiled and grabbed Harry’s hand to pull the messy haired boy onto the dance floor. “I don’t mind and neither does Harry,” she announced as she shimmed against Harry’s body.

Harry paused and looked around the room at the men dancing on one another, kissing each other and oh Merlin, grinding up on each other. He started salivating. Hermione giggled. “See, I KNEW you were gay,” she said triumphantly. 

“Oh er-” Harry ran a hand through his hair. He had been thinking about his sexuality a lot this summer. Truth be told he never thought he’d live this long so it just wasn’t a high priority until now. But this summer he realized he liked looking at Charlie way more than he liked looking at Ginny and that he’d always felt a twinge in his stomach when a good looking boy walked by, whereas he felt nothing of the sort about women. 

“I think I am, yeah,” he admitted and Ron’s jaw dropped. Hermione squealed and hugged him as she whispered fiercely to her boyfriend, “Ron Weasley, you get over yourself.”

“Come on Harry, let’s find you a boy to kiss.”

Over the ensuing weeks Harry found himself at that club more and more often. And after a few visits he started to do way more than just kiss. This was the beauty of living in London by himself. He could just bring blokes home to shag and no one cared. He learned a lot about himself this summer, including what he liked in the bedroom. He liked control, he liked to top and he really liked to cuddle afterwards. He was still an emotional Gryffindor, after all.

Harry didn’t think he’d be having much sex at Hogwarts but he really did want to try it out one day with a wizard. It was just difficult to find someone who didn’t care about Harry: The Boy Who Lived Twice. This was the main reason he had only been with muggles so far. However, Hermione told him that being with another magical being was better than being with a non-magical person. Something about the compatibility of your magical cores.

Harry blinked and slapped himself lightly to snap himself out of his sexual daydreams. “You’re going to be so late, Potter,” he muttered to himself as he dashed out the door.

When he slid into the classroom at precisely nine am, Harry was surprised to see Draco Malfoy was the sole occupant of the room.

“Malfoy,” he nodded, catching his breath. “Where’s Hermione?” He looked around the room as if he had simply missed her. 

“Well, she’s not hiding behind the drapes, Potter,” Malfoy said dryly. 

“Ha. Right,” Harry replied and sat down next to the other boy. “How’s your first week going?”

Malfoy shrugged, “Could be better but it also could be way worse?” he said bitterly. 

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “People are giving you trouble? They shouldn’t -”

“Potter, tone down the heroics, please. I was a marked Death Eater, people need someone to take out their grief on. It’s fine.”

Harry opened his mouth to object but was cut off by an apple flying through the air. 

“Eat this apple and try not to get your panties in a twist,” Mafloy smirked. Harry shut his mouth and looked at the apple in his hand gratefully.

“Thanks, I, er, missed breakfast.”

“I know,” Malfoy blushed.

Harry didn’t have time to respond before the door burst open and Healer Catherine flounced in.

“Hello, boys,” she slid into her chair. “It’s just us on Fridays,” she vanished the extra chairs in the circle. “I thought you two had more in common with each other than with the ladies so I decided to pair you off,” she smiled.

Harry’s heart sunk. He had been counting on Hermione’s comforting presence to get him through this. He knew his face was fixed in a grimace.

“Oh come on boys, there’s no need to look like your owl’s been killed.”

Harry winced at the expression and he felt Malfoy recoil next to him.

“Oh gods. Don’t tell me you both actually had your owls killed? It’s just a figure of speech,” Healer Catherine exclaimed, picking up on their discomfort.

“Er yeah, the night I turned seventeen. Death Eaters attacked and they got my owl. They also killed Mad-Eye Moody that night,” Harry closed his eyes at the memory of a flash of green hitting Hedwig and the hollowness he felt after.

“Mine was that summer, too. Aunt Bella said that 'Ponces don’t need owls.’” 

“Sometimes I felt guilty because I felt sadder about Hedwig’s death than some of the others,” Harry whispered, voicing the thought aloud for the first time.

Malfoy nodded and met his eyes without a trace of judgement. “I understand,” he said simply.

Something lifted in Harry in that moment. He could do this without Hermione. 

“Well, I was hoping to start things off on a more positive note today but I suppose it is good that you found common ground with your owls,” Healer Catherine said, carefully. “Let’s backtrack though, let’s talk about the time before the war began in earnest shall we?” She looked at the two boys.

They sat silently. 

“Did you have any friends in common at school?” She pressed.

Harry snorted. Malfoy’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Well, this isn’t a friend per-se, Healer, but my Aunt did murder his godfather. That’s something isn’t?” He asked with feigned innocence. 

Harry nodded seriously and bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Oh yes, very good Malfoy. And then my adoptive mother actually murdered his Aunt, so that’s even more stuff we’ve got in common.”

The two eighteen year olds lost it then, clutching their stomachs as they laughed heartily. Harry found he quite liked the sound of Malfoy’s laugh.

“You boys are not taking this seriously,” Healer Catherine’s eyes flashed and her tone was vicious. “Stop being difficult.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Alright Healer, I’ve thought of something serious,” he said appeasingly. Malfoy collected himself and looked at Harry with interest.

“I was almost sorted into Slytherin,” he shared. “In fact, I got in quite a fight with the Sorting Hat about it, he really wanted to put me there.” Harry looked expectantly at the Healer who was staring at him aghast. 

“Well now you’re plain lying, Potter,” Malfoy waved his hand dismissively. “That just isn’t true.” 

“Sorry the truth is so hard to swallow, Malfoy but I’m not lying,” Harry said in a singsong voice. “You’re actually the reason I didn’t want to be in Slytherin - you were such a git to Ron on the train. It’s a pity too, because I’m starting to realize you’re pretty decent.”

Harry hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud and his cheeks flushed a bit at the slip up. 

Malfoy opened and closed his mouth and then settled on a curt nod.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” their Healer clapped. “That was great, Harry. Now Draco, can you think of something you two have in common?”

Malfoy looked at Harry for a long time. So long that Harry felt his cheeks grow steadily warmer and he couldn’t help but start to shake his leg with impatience. Finally he quirked a brow at Malfoy as if to ask, “well?”

Malfoy sighed and looked at their Healer. “Well, Healer Catherine, I’m pretty sure we’re both gay but Potter here is still in the closet.”

Harry had the odd thought that he was thankful he wasn’t drinking pumpkin juice because he would have spit it out in that moment.

“I am not,” he exclaimed indignantly. 

Malfoy gave him a bored, almost pitying look. “Potter please, I see the way you watch Dean Thomas walk out of a room, I know you’re checking out his arse.”

“Oh my GOD, Malfoy. I’ve had sex with enough men to know that I am gay, I meant that I am not in the closet. But thanks for that,” Harry tried to sound confident but he knew his now impossibly red face gave him away.

A blush crept on Malfoy’s cheeks. “You’ve had - oh,” he looked down sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“‘S alright,” Harry managed, feeling rather flustered.

Healer Catherine gave them a gleeful smile and stayed silent. Harry had a feeling the witch lived for these kinds of awkward moments. He had to get Malfoy back for this, he had to really throw him off. Before Harry could think too hard about the words he was about to say he heard them coming out of his mouth.

“Something else we have in common is that we were both on the Astronomy Tower the night Dumbledore died.”

This proclamation was met with strained silence. Harry looked at Malfoy and saw a face completely devoid of mirth looking back at him. “You asshole,” Malfoy said quietly.

“Sorry er - I didn’t,” Harry started an awkward apology but was cut off by Malfoy leaping up and grabbing him by the front of his robes.

“You were THERE?” he yelled. “God DAMN it Potter, why are you always there?” Harry wasn’t sure what to say so he settled on a mumbled explanation.

“I was under my invisibility cloak, Dumbledore cursed me so I couldn’t move but I heard and saw everything,” he didn’t look up at Malfoy even though Malfoy was still so close to him that he could hear his breath leaving his nose.

Malfoy let go and took a half step back, his shoulders slumped. “All my worst moments,” he murmured. “All my worst moments,” he said again louder, “that’s what we have in common.” He started packing up his things with a frantic energy. “Every low point in my life and I can count on your scrawny arse and those stupidly green eyes to have been there,” he huffed. “Next you’ll tell me you were there when they tortured Henry,” Malfoy slung his bag on his shoulder and looked at Harry expectantly. Harry wagered a guess that Henry was Malfoy's first love who he mentioned in the last session. “Wasn’t there for that, er - no,” Harry said hesitantly.

“Great, at leas there's that,” Malfoy drawled. “Then do me a favor and fuck off, Potter.” He wrenched the door open and left in one fluid movement. 

Harry stood stunned for half a second before he took off, leaving his bag and his things behind.

“Malfoy,” he shouted down the empty corridor. “Malfoy, wait.”

Draco Malfoy stopped and turned towards Harry, with what was obviously another insult poised on his tongue.

Harry spoke first. “Have you ever been to the Hufflepuff common room?” 

Malfoy’s expression turned from one of anger to one of shock at a comical speed. The element of surprise was on Harry’s side, and the blonde answered honestly. “Look at me, Potter. What do you think?”

Harry grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, it’s the only common room I haven’t seen and everyone is in class right now so it should be empty….. Fancy breaking in?”

Malfoy looked at him incredulously and his eyes softened the tiniest bit. Harry noticed there were flecks of silver amongst the grey. “Oh, uh,” he seemed to debate something within himself. “Fuck it. Why not?”

Harry’s whoop of joy echoed down the hall as he turned on his heel and bounded to the nearest staircase. 

Malfoy stood frozen until Harry called his name, breaking him out of his trance. “Hold on, Potter. WHEN were you in the Slytherin common room?”

Harry’s rumbling laugh reverberated around the castle walls as they made their way to the dungeons.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry led them to a shadowy alcove near the kitchens, filled with large barrels. “Right okay, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to tap this one here,” Harry indicated a barrel towards the center of the group, with his wand. “And if I get this right it’ll open up.” 

He stood a bit uncertainly in front of the barrel as if hoping for a sign. When no sign came, he shrugged and approached the barrel in question and tapped softly on it with his wand. There was a brief pause and then the barrel sank down silently, revealing an earthy passage that slanted slightly upwards. Malfoy lifted his hand as if to indicate “after you,” so Harry climbed into the tunnel.

He heard Malfoy do the same behind him and began walking up the slight hill. After a minute of walking, they emerged into a bright, cozy room full of squashy sofas and patchwork quilts. Harry immediately felt at home, it felt a bit like the Burrow with plants and pillows everywhere.

“Wow,” he breathed. Draco took the room in with raised eyebrows. “Are you going to explain to me how you seem to know everything, Potter?”

Harry grinned. “I’ll do you one better; I’ll show you.”

He ushered Malfoy over to a particularly comfortable looking sofa and sat. Both boys gasped as their bodies sunk into the couch. “This is SO comfortable,” Harry exclaimed. 

“I really like it here,” mumbled Malfoy, who blushed as he realized what he had just admitted. “If you tell anyone I said I like the Hufflepuff common room, I’ll have to kill you,” he grimaced. 

“No promises,” Harry teased in response. He chuckled to himself and dug in his bag until he found what he was looking for.

“Fred and George Weasley gave this to me during my third year, it’s a map of Hogwarts with pretty much every passageway labeled. Because the Hufflepuffs don’t have a password that changes or a riddle to answer, the map knew exactly how to get in,” Harry pointed to the spot on the map where the barrels were. Neat little instructions explained exactly which barrel to tap.

“Merlin, is that us?” Malfoy pointed at the two dots with their names underneath. 

“Yep,” Harry nodded. “Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, skiving class in the Hufflepuff common room,” Harry laughed.

“I can’t believe Fred and George made this, I mean I saw all the shit they made for their shop, I know they aren’t idiots, but this is something else,” Malfoy exclaimed, pulling the map towards him to examine it closer.

“Weren’t idiots,” Harry corrected quietly. “There’s no Fred and George anymore, it’s just George.”

Malfoy closed his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Harry nodded and reached for the map. “Besides, it wasn’t Fred and George who made it. They just nicked it from Filch. My dad and Sirius and Lupin and Peter Pettigrew made it,” He tapped the map fondly and showed Malfoy where the marauder’s signatures appeared.

“That’s brilliant,” Malfoy breathed, eyes shining. 

“Yeah it’s an impressive bit of magic, I have no idea how they pulled it off,” Harry agreed.

“No, I mean the magic is amazing, but I meant that you have this piece of your dad and of Sirius and Lupin. That must feel brilliant, like a part of them is still with you.”

“Oh,” Harry said, wrenching his body off the spectacularly comfortable sofa so that Malfoy wouldn’t see his eyes well up with tears. “That part’s nice, too.”

Harry took a moment to collect himself and looked around the room. There was a large portrait of Helga Hufflepuff staring down at them from above the merrily burning hearth. He took a step forward and his breath caught in his throat. She was holding an utterly familiar cup in one of her painted hands.

“So that’s it then,” Malfoy’s voice came from a few inches behind Harry, he had followed the raven-haired boy. “That’s the cup,” he said flatly.

Harry whirled around. “You never explained how you knew about the horcruxes,” his voice rose with tension.

“Relax, Potter. It was a lucky guess.”

Harry snorted, “some guess.” 

“Okay, it was more of a highly educated guess. You have to remember I grew up in a house with the most advanced collection of dark magical books in all of Europe. When I saw my Aunt lose it over the cup you stole from her vault at Gringotts, I did some research. I didn’t know how many he had made and I didn’t know about the snake or about you. The diary I figured out because of my asshole father and then that night in the Room of Requirement Ravenclaw’s diadem kind of confirmed things,” Malfoy said this all in a rush as if it was something he’d been waiting to say for a long time.

Harry stared at him and then started to laugh. “Gods, you and Hermione should be friends.” 

Malfoy chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, reaching to pluck a leaf off one of the plants next to them. 

“It’s a bit strange isn’t it?” Harry asked as he watched Malfoy twirl the leaf between his long fingers. “He could have hidden the fragments of his soul anywhere, and he chose these items with a weird sentimental attachment to this place. It just makes him seem weirdly…”

“Flawed?” Malfoy finished quietly.

“I was going to say ‘human,’ but I guess it’s the same thing.”

Harry trailed his hand along the mantel absently, lost in thought. He started when his hand hit a gnarled knot in the otherwise smooth stone of the fireplace. He furrowed his brow and pressed down on it, waiting for the tell tale pop of a secret compartment opening. The pop sounded and Harry watched a brick in the fireplace jump free of its confines, revealing a little compartment with a single bottle of firewhiskey. His face broke into a smile as he retrieved the bottle.

“Those sneaky Hufflepuffs,” he whooped, holding the bottle up for Mafloy to see. 

Malfoy rolled his eyes and sat primly down on an olive green armchair by the fire. “If they were Slytherins they would have warded that,” he said wryly. “Plus it is not even lunchtime, Potter, what are you thinking?” He clucked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Oh come onnnnnnn, Malfoy live a little,” Harry pleaded, dropping to his knees in front of Malfoy’s chair. “I’m begging you please oh, please get drunk with me in the Hufflepuff common room,” he brandished the bottle in Malfoy’s face.

The blonde’s eyes widened imperceptibly at the sight of Harry on his knees in front of him. He cleared his throat and looked away. “Okay, fine Potter you win. You’re lucky the only class I care about is Potions and I don’t have it today.” 

Harry shouted in glee and sprinted around the common room pretending to be on a broom. “Harry Potter does it again, folks, Harry Potter catches the snitch,” he stopped, panting in front of Malfoy, who was rolling his eyes. 

“You’re an absolute child, Potter,” Malfoy reached for the bottle and unscrewed the cap. Harry flopped down in the chair next to Malfoy’s and grinned lazily. “Never really got to be a kid, suppose I’m making up for lost time,” he stuck his tongue out.

Malfoy chose that moment to take a long swig directly from the bottle and Harry’s jaw dropped. He watched as Malfoy drank, his adam's apple bobbing as the alcohol made its way down his graceful neck. Harry clenched his fists at his sides, how did the git make drinking something that literally burned you on its way down look so damn smooth?

When he broke out of his thoughts Malfoy was staring at him, amused. “Catch up, Potter,” he passed Harry the bottle and Harry took a long gulp.

It’s Malfoy, he reminded himself. This is Malfoy you’re thinking about.

Malfoy sighed dramatically and glanced around the room. “Let’s see, so now I’ve been to Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. I guess the only common room left for me is Ravenclaw,” he looked pointedly at Harry with a glint in his eye.

Harry gaped back at him. “You’ve - You’ve been to Gryffindor Tower?” He nearly yelled. “What? How?” he demanded.

“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours,” Malfoy replied wickedly. 

“Fine,” Harry took another slug of whiskey and passed the bottle over to the other boy. “I’ll go first.”

That’s how Harry learned about a particularly rowdy game of truth or dare during fourth year that ended with Malfoy heavily disillusioning himself and sneaking past the Fat Lady amidst a gaggle of first years. 

“I stole a knight from Weasley’s chess set,” he explained proudly.

“Oh my god, that was you?” Harry exclaimed. “Ron was put out for months, he would interrogate people daily about what they had witnessed at the ‘scene of the crime.’ That’s so hilarious,” Harry laughed genuinely and Malfoy flushed with a pleased smile.

“So Granger made polyjuice as a twelve year old which you used in order to question me, I’ll admit I didn’t see that one coming,” Malfoy chuckled, his eyes were a bit glazed from the whiskey now. “Anything else about your precious years here that might shock me?” He looked over at the Gryffindor teasingly but Harry furrowed his brow seriously. 

“Well, in third year Hermione had a time turner which we used to rescue both Sirius and Buckbeak, not many people know about that,” he started to explain. 

“Oh my god, Potter I don’t think you realize how unbelievable you are,” Malfoy cut him off and stood on wobbly feet. “The shock of that revelation was in fact too much for me,” he declared. “I need to lie down.” 

Harry laughed as he watched Malfoy collapse onto the comfortable sofa they had been sitting on at the outset of their visit. He realized how drunk he was when he tried to stand and broke into a fit of giggles.

“Wass so funny,” Malfoy slurred from the sofa. 

“Nothing,” Harry mumbled and made his way over to his ex-nemesis.

“Poor little Malfoy, shocked by my life,” he chuckled and shuffled across the carpet tipsily. “Whoops,” Harry lost his balance just as he arrived at the edge of Malfoy’s sofa. He tipped forward over the arm of the sofa and landed hard on top of the other boy. He caught himself just before their heads clunked together, finding himself with the length of his body pressed against Malfoy and his arms on either side of Malfoy’s head.

The blonde boy’s eyes widened and Harry watched a blush rise on his pale cheeks.

He smiled down at those grey eyes. “Your eyes have bits of silver in them, I noticed it before,” the words tumbled out. 

“Oh,” Malfoy responded and Harry unconsciously glanced at the boy’s lips and leaned forward so they were just a breath apart. 

“Green is my favorite color,” Malfoy whispered and Harry found himself closing the gap between them, he felt Malfoy’s warm body wriggling beneath his and Malfoy’s hands snake into his hair. Their lips brushed together lightly, sending shock waves through Harry's body.

“Stop,” Harry said firmly and wrenched his head back. Malfoy dropped his hands from Harry’s hair like they had been burned. 

“I thought - I thought you wanted -” Malfoy’s cheeks grew redder and he fought to push Harry off him. “My mistake for thinking you wanted me.”

Harry didn’t move. “Draco,” Harry started and he felt Draco’s whole body shudder at the sound of his name on Harry’s lips. “Draco, I want you.” The blonde lifted a hand to Harry’s face and brushed his hair back. Harry licked his lips.

“I want this so badly it hurts, I just,” Harry looked hard into those grey eyes. “I want it to be perfect, I don’t want to be drunk, I don’t want to be on a random sofa in a common room that isn’t ours, we deserve more than that,” he finished firmly and stared at Draco, daring him to argue.

“When?” Draco croaked.

Harry smiled. “Tonight,” he rolled off of the boy and stood, brushing himself off. “Come to my room tonight, you can borrow my dad’s invisibility cloak.”

Draco threw his arm over his head dramatically. “I’m swooning, first you show me your map, now I get to borrow your cloak, how lucky can I get?”

“Oi, you tosser would you rather not get to try this out?” Harry waved the cloak that he had just pulled from his bag.

Draco leapt up and dashed towards Harry, snatched at the cloak, and whipped it over himself.   
“See you tonight, Harry,” Draco’s disembodied voice whispered in Harry’s ear as he walked past him to get to the exit. 

Harry shivered and blushed. He was hopelessly turned on in the Hufflepuff common room and he had just given his invisibility cloak to Draco Malfoy. What could go wrong?


	5. Chapter 5

The only thing to do was just go about his day pretending he wasn’t in a daze of panic and excitement thinking about what was going to happen later that night, Harry decided. It was just about lunchtime, so he wandered over to the Great Hall thinking that distractions in the forms of his friends and food might do him some good.

He slid into his seat across from Ron and Hermione as casually as he could, but, well, he was still rather drunk and somehow he knocked a platter of chicken off the table with his elbow, eliciting stares from half his house..

“Er -oops.” Harry said nonchalantly, without making eye contact with his best friends.

“Harry are you drunk?” Hermione whispered scathingly. “You skipped Charms to get DRUNK?”

Harry scratched his head sheepishly. “Mate, you could have invited me,” Ron looked genuinely disappointed. 

“Ah, sorry.” Harry realized he was ravenous and heaped food onto his plate. “I had a hard time in counseling this morning,” he felt slightly guilty for the lie but he also wasn’t ready to share what he had actually been up to, not until he knew where he and Draco stood.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione’s voice softened, sending another spike of guilt through him. “You’re doing great, we’re all doing the best we can.”

Ron nodded and reached over to pour Harry some pumpkin juice. Harry felt immensely grateful to have such supportive friends, it was probably the firewhiskey but he was feeling sentimental.

“Every time you two are nice to me I thank my lucky stars for that troll,” he smiled. Hermione and Ron chuckled and launched into reminiscing, Harry felt warm and happy. Today was a good day.

After lunch he feigned emotional exhaustion again and decided to skip the rest of his classes in favor of a nap. He never used to be so casual about class, but dying put things into perspective. 

Somehow Harry managed to get through dinner, although he didn’t remember any of it. He went back to his room right after the meal to wait for Draco. He knew he should probably get a head start on all the weekend’s homework, but all he could do was sit at his desk and stare at Draco’s dot on the Marauder’s Map. 

In some ways nothing had changed since sixth year, he thought as he watched the dot. In other ways, everything was different.

Finally at around ten pm, Harry saw the dot slowly begin to make its way down the hall to his room. He watched as Draco’s dot paused in front of his door and waited for the knock. A minute passed, then another. Harry started jiggling his leg with impatience. What the hell was Draco doing? As soon as Harry decided he was just going to yank open the door and drag the other boy in, a soft knock sounded.

Harry rushed to the door and flung it open, his mouth going dry. He felt, but didn’t see, Draco cross his threshold.

“Hi,” Harry said, suddenly feeling nervous. Draco pulled off the cloak and let it fall to the floor. Neither of them moved to pick it up. “Do you want some water? Tea?” Harry inquired.

“Harry…” Draco’s voice was gruff and his eyes were intent. Harry let his map fall out of his hands.

And then his lips were on Draco’s and they were kissing but it wasn’t like kissing as Harry had known it before, this was frantic and passionate and there was so much history in the curve of Draco’s lips and in the feeling of Draco’s hands in his hair. Harry groaned into the other boy’s mouth and Draco’s lips parted, allowing Harry’s probing tongue in. Merlin, this was amazing, this was spectacular, and Harry wanted more. It felt like the first time he used magic: so wonderfully perfect but also so intoxicating. There was no way Harry couldn’t do this again, god, he could do this forever.

Draco smelled like cinnamon and Harry had the frenzied thought that he wanted to bury his nose in Draco’s neck and just remember what it smelled like. He threaded one hand in Draco’s silky blonde hair and the other around his waist as he drew Draco impossibly closer to him. Their chests were pressed together and he could feel how hard Draco was against his hip

Harry drew back, breathing hard and took in Draco’s kiss swollen lips. “Bed, now,” he gasped, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

He watched as Draco nodded and wordlessly banished his clothing, climbing into Harry’s bed. “You’re so fucking hot,” Harry whispered as he climbed on top of Draco kissing his way down his body. Draco moaned and squirmed underneath him. His last coherent thought was a pause to marvel at the fact that he was about to have sex with Draco Malfoy. Then he stopped thinking and started feeling.

\-----

The next morning Harry woke up smiling. He was also completely naked. He was also wrapped around his former enemy turned grudging friend turned lover. 

He smiled. This was quite a fun way to wake up. He felt Draco stir and kissed him lightly on the neck. 

“Mmmm,” Draco turned to face Harry so they were nose to nose.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Draco took a breath and his eyes grew serious. “Last night meant a lot to me,” he started. Harry nodded, “Me too.”

“No, no, Harry let me finish. It meant a lot to me. I haven’t been with anyone since Henry and I didn’t know that I’d be able to share this part of myself with someone again. You made it easy and that meant a lot.”

Draco looked searchingly in Harry’s green eyes as if seeking reassurance. Harry pulled him closer and kissed him softly. It was different from their kisses last night, but the sparks were just as powerful. Harry pulled back.

“I really want to do this again, I really like spending time with you.”

Draco’s eyes crinkled. “You know I’ve been thinking, Healer Catherine was right, we do have a lot in common.”

“Oh god, please don’t say the phrase ‘Healer Catherine’ ever again while we’re naked,” Harry laughed. 

“Noted,” Draco responded, running a hand up and down Harry’s back causing shivers to overtake the Gryffindor. 

Harry closed his eyes, “I’ve never dated anybody before, I’ve only ever had one night stands,” he began nervously. “Do you think it is too soon for me to ask you if you wanted to try dating each other?”

Harry’s heart beat in his chest and it felt like Draco took ages to answer. 

“I’d like that,” Draco said simply. “But-”

“Ah, there’s always a ‘but.’”

“I’m not ready for the press and for my parents to find out about this yet. I want us to be able to get to know each other without all the opinions of everyone else. Do you think we could keep this just between us for now?”

Harry’s heart sank. He hated lying to Ron and Hermione, but he also knew that what he and Draco had just shared was truly special. “Okay, deal.”

Draco grinned. “Well in that case, Potter. I believe it is time for celebration. I seem to remember you telling me last night about a particular fantasy in which I wear my Slytherin tie?”

Draco deftly tied his tie around his neck so it hung down over his bare chest. He kicked the sheets to the side and gave Harry a quick kiss on the lips before sliding down his body, looking Harry in the eyes the entire time.

Harry’s jaw dropped. Dating Draco Malfoy was going to be VERY fun.

Just then an ill-opportuned knock sounded at the door. Harry groaned and Draco sat up quickly, a panicked look in his eyes. “Cloak,” Harry mouthed as he scrambled for some pants. Draco nodded and threw the cloak over himself. Harry stretched and opened the door.

He had never been less thrilled to see Hermione Granger.

“Did I wake you? It’s a eleven am, Harry I know it’s Saturday but -”

“‘S fine Hermione,” Harry stood aside glumly and let the witch in. He’d try to make this visit as brief as possible.

“Can I help you?”

Hermione eyed the disheveled heap of sheets on Harry’s bed and raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. 

“Harry, I have excellent news,” she was practically vibrating with excitement.

“What Hermione, did you finally get the extra credit you petitioned for?” 

“Not everything is about school, Harry.” The boy snorted at that. “Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger?”

“I’ll have you know I’ve gotten approval from McGonagall to have a party for the eighth years tonight,” she said smugly. “And I’ve got loads of firewhiskey.”

Harry stood up straighter, “Hermione if I didn’t know that Ron would kill me, I’d kiss you right now,” Harry exclaimed. A party? Followed by more ridiculously good sex with Draco? This was shaping up to be an excellent Saturday, indeed.

“You do know I have to invite all the eighth years,” Hermione continued at a quieter volume. “That includes the Slytherins, I know you were feeling down about counseling yesterday, I don’t know if that had to do with Draco?” 

Harry waved his hand dismissively. 

“It’s fine Hermione, you know I don’t hate Dra- I mean, Malfoy anymore. Especially not after everything we’ve shared in our group.” 

“Okay great,” Hermione replied cheerfully as she stepped out and walked to the part of the hallway that overlooked the common room.

“Sonorus,” she whispered and surveyed the room.

“Hello, fellow eighth years,” Hermione’s booming voice echoed throughout the dorm. Even students still in their rooms would be able to hear her. “I’m about to be your favorite person,” her eyes twinkled. “I got special permission for an all-eighth year party tonight AND I secured plenty of firewhiskey for the occasion.” 

A cheer rang out across the dorm and Hermione took a bow. “Unfortunately no non-eighth years are invited, but please tell all our classmates who aren’t here right now. See you tonight at nine pm.”

Hermione gave Harry a wave and skipped down the stairs to kiss a whooping Ron.

Harry shut the door and leaned against it, Draco already had to cloak off and was gathering his clothes. 

“You can borrow the cloak again,” Harry smiled as Draco approached him for another kiss. “You’re cute when you’re all disheveled in the morning,” Harry blushed as the words came out of his mouth, but was pleased to see Draco blush too. 

“See you tonight, Harry,” the words sent another, now familiar, shiver down Harry’s spine. Tonight was going to be fun.

\--------

When Harry stepped into the common room that night, all he could think was that Hermione had outdone herself. Not only had she procured ample firewhiskey, she had also gotten the house elves to bring treats from the kitchen and set up a large piano that was playing itself in the corner. If you called a song out the piano would play it.

The lights were dim, people were laughing and Harry couldn’t help but think how different things were a year ago. Harry grabbed himself a firewhiskey and wandered over to where Neville was chatting animatedly to someone who had his back to Harry. 

“Hi Harry,” Neville waved as Harry approached, “You know Blaise right? We’re in the same counseling session and it’s helped us realize how much we have in common.”

“Hi Blaise,” Harry nodded and Blaise nodded back. “You know I don’t know if we’ve ever actually spoken to each other, but any friend of Neville’s is a friend of mine.” 

“Never too late to make new friends,” Blaise smiled and Harry was struck by how wrong his assumptions were about this boy. He’d always assumed Blaise was haughty and cold, but this boy talking excitedly to Neville about a rare plant was anything but. I made a lot of incorrect assumptions about the Slytherins, he thought. These revelations and the friendships many of his classmates had forged in the counseling sessions made him start to think their house system might have held them back. If Blaise and Neville hadn’t been in rival houses they probably would have become friends ages ago. Hell, he and Draco could have started this ages ago if they hadn’t been groomed to be rivals their whole lives. He pushed the thought out of his head. 

Harry downed his firewhisky and decided to tune back into the conversation he was supposedly participating in, however his plan was interrupted by a shrill sound coming from the front of the room.

“Hey everybody,” Hannah Abbot, Theodore Nott and Terry Boot stood at the front of the room. “The three of us were thinking,” Hannah began.

“That’s impossible,” Blaise shouted jovially from beside Harry. “Nott doesn’t think.” 

The room erupted in laughter and Harry joined in the chuckling. Hannah ignored the outburst and forged ahead. “We were thinking it might be fun to play a game,” she wiggled her eyebrows.   
“Terry here has procured a supply of vertiserum, so we were thinking a truth circle is in order.”

The room broke out into whispers. “Do either of you know what a truth circle is?” Harry warily asked his companions. “Yep,” Neville responded. “It’s an old school party game. You all stand in a circle and take a drink. Two of the drinks have vertiserum in them. If you get the spiked cup you move to the center of the circle and the people around you take turns asking you questions until the potion wears off.”

Harry swallowed. “That sounds terrible,” he gulped. “I’m in.”

And that was how Harry found himself between Neville and Blaise, holding a goblet of possibly spiked firewhiskey. 

“Okay,” Hannah explained. “I am going to count to three and on three we all drink. If you feel the potion take effect please step to the center of the circle. Then you’ll have to answer all our wicked little questions,” she giggled and stepped into her place in the circle.

“Ready, one, two, three.”

Harry raised his goblet to his lips and took a long sip. Almost immediately he felt coolness wash over him that hadn’t been there with every other sip he’d taken that night.

Fuck. Of course he was one of the ones with the tainted cup.

Harry stepped into the center of the circle with a grin that he hoped made him seem more confident than he felt. “Well, they don’t call me ‘The Chosen One’ for nothing,” he quipped.

His classmates chuckled appreciatively and Harry felt some of his tension ease. This will be fine, he thought as he scanned the circle looking for who the second victim was.

When he saw Draco step forward his heart stopped. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. What if he gave away their relationship? Draco would hate him and things would be over before they could even properly start.

He looked at Draco and the blonde read the fear in his eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Harry,” he whispered so only Harry could hear. 

Harry nodded. He defeated the darkest wizard in history, he could do this.

Draco schooled his expression into one of contempt and gave him a lazy nod as he stepped back.

“Scared, Potter?” he said so that the whole circle could hear. Harry forced himself not to smile. The git wanted to put on a show did he? 

“You wish,” Harry’s eyes burned with what he knew his classmates would think was anger, but he hoped Draco knew it for what it was: desire.

Draco’s slight flush told Harry that the other boy knew exactly what the look in his eyes meant.

The eyes of their classmates widened at Harry’s response and the excitement in the room was palpable. Harry understood. First of all he and Malfoy were enemies for most of their schooling and his classmates weren’t aware that their relationship had become any less antagonistic over the past week. Second of all, they were probably the two most private, and therefore mysterious, people in the room. Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. 

“Right, so who has the first question?”

“Let’s start with something easy, shall we?” To Harry’s relief it was Ron who stepped forward.

“This is a question for both of you. If you had to cast a patronus right now, what is the memory you would use?”

Harry could tell by the way Draco turned to him expectantly that he should answer first.

“Oh well,” Harry closed his eyes and pretended he was about to cast the charm. His eyes shot open at the first memory that came to him. Uh oh. “I would use the memory of kissing someone who meant a lot to me,” Harry trailed off. Luckily the potion didn’t force a name out of him. He sighed in relief.

Malfoy cleared his throat. “I also would think of a kiss. In particular, my first kiss with someone who I have deep feelings for,” Draco looked mortified at this admission, Harry winked. Draco felt the same way as him, an elated bubble formed in his chest. 

“That’s so sweet,” Harry heard Susan Bones breath and he laughed to himself. If only they knew.

Next, Lavender Brown stepped forward which Harry knew wouldn’t be good. The war hadn’t taken away her appetite for gossip and drama. 

“This question is also for both of you. Are you virgins?” she asked with a glint in her eye.

Harry was relieved. This question was a simple yes or no. You didn’t have to give details with veritaserum, you just had to answer the question truthfully. 

“No,” Draco said, sounding almost bored.

“No,” Harry agreed and he felt Draco’s eyes flick over him quickly but forced himself not to meet them. 

“Oh booo, those answers were boring,” Lavender pouted. 

“You have to be specific with veritaserum, I’d avoid yes or no questions,” Terry Boot piped up. 

Harry grimaced and Draco made a rude gesture. The circle tittered. 

“I’ll go,” announced Pavarti Patil. “Since you both have had sex before,” she began and Harry closed his eyes. This wasn’t going to be good. “Can you please describe what you like in bed? Be very specific”

“Merlin, she should have been a Slytherin,” Malfoy muttered. “Your turn to answer first, Har- I mean, Potter.” 

Harry stuck his tongue out at him and took a deep breath. Maybe he could keep the gender neutral so people wouldn’t find out he was gay? He really wasn’t looking forward to this being in the Prophet tomorrow. He’d managed to keep his sexuality quiet for so long.

“Okay er - well I like when the person I’m with is a bit submissive,” Harry stopped as he felt the vertiserum fight against his words. “Fuck, fine,” he exclaimed. 

“I like when the man I am with is a bit submissive and -” the room erupted into chaos, as he knew it would. 

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Draco. “I was really hoping that wouldn’t come up,” he muttered.

Draco just stared at him incredulously. “You like control in bed?” he said hoarsley. “Yep,” Harry replied.

“Why didn’t this come up last night?” Draco demanded and Harry laughed. “Oh I dunno,” Harry ran his hand through his hair. “We were busy doing other things and I thought we’d have plenty of time to experiment,” Harry trailed off as he noticed the room was quiet.

“Right,” he said in his most commanding voice. “I’d really appreciate it if this doesn’t make its way to my dear friend Rita Skeeter. I’m not ashamed of who I am, I just would love some peace this year.” His classmates in the circle nodded vigorously. “Thanks,” Harry said, already feeling exhausted.

“You still need to finish answering the question Harry,” Parvati supplied.

“Gee thanks Pavarti,” Harry took another breath. “I love when the man I am with is submissive,” he repeated. “I think it’s bloody hot when he trusts me enough to give himself to me. I want to give him pleasure, I love having control over how he loses control, I love watching a man’s face he comes exactly when I tell him to,” Harry finished and he knew his cheeks were bright red. He definitely couldn’t look at Ron for a while after that admission. He didn’t need his best friend to know all of that.

“Wow,” Parvati sounded breathless. “Okay, Malfoy now you.”

Harry turned to Draco and found that he had his mouth pressed in a firm line. He shook his head. 

“You have to answer, Malfoy, the potion will make you,” someone in the circle said.

Draco held out for a few seconds more before the words burst out of him in a rush. 

“Ilikebeingsubmissiveinbed,” he said very quickly. “I like giving myself over to another man and letting him take control. I love being fucked and I love,” his voice grew quieter now, “being punished.”

Harry stared at Draco with an open mouth. Half of him was more turned on than he’d ever been before and the other half was horrified. 

He and Draco had just admitted in front of their entire class that they’d be perfect in bed together.

Oh Merlin, they WERE so perfect in bed together, Harry stifled a groan.

Harry chanced a glance at Draco and found Draco staring at him with dark, lust-filled eyes. 

Shit, he was so screwed. 

Harry took an involuntary step into the space between him and Draco and he could have sworn he saw Draco shiver. 

Draco’s eyes swept down to Harry’s mouth and Harry licked his lips. This time Draco definitely shuddered. Fuck.

A voice cut through their reverie and Harry was reminded that he was standing in front of everyone he grew up with licking his lips for Draco Malfoy.

“I’ll go next,” it was Hermione. Harry looked at his friend quizzically. What did she have planned?

“This question is for both of you,” the witch began, eyes shining. “Draco, would you have sex with Harry right now? And Harry, same question.”

Harry groaned. He knew Hermione had saved his life on multiple occasions but at this moment he felt about ready to end his friendship with her, forever.

He forced himself to look back at Draco who was staring at him with the same darkened eyes and intense expression. 

Draco shrugged slightly and sighed, “I physically cannot say no to that question.”

Harry took a step forward so that he and Draco were inches from each other. They were exactly the same height, Harry noticed, as his green eyes easily found Malfoy’s.

Harry swallowed, and said so that the entire, silent room, could hear, “I hope this can serve as my answer.” 

He crashed his lips onto Draco’s and felt the Slytherin’s hands immediately weave their way into his hair. He pulled Draco against him so their entire bodies were pressed together and felt Draco moan into his mouth as their hips connected. Harry didn’t care that they had an audience, all he cared about was the feeling of Draco’s teeth nibbling his lower lip and Draco’s hands in his hair and oh, Draco’s tongue battling with his. The kiss slowed to something softer and more sensual as Harry felt Draco’s hands trail down his back, just as they had this morning in bed. He sighed at the memory of Draco with bedhead and sleepy eyes and wrapped his arms around the other boy. Magic crackled around them as they kissed.

A low wolf whistle brought them back to reality and Harry’s cheeks heated at what he had just done in front of his classmates.

“Well, er -” Hannah Abbot began uncertainly. “Any other questions?” 

Harry and Draco were still standing in the center of the circle nose to nose, breathing heavily. 

Harry couldn’t tear his eyes from Draco’s, he felt lost in those pools of grey in the best possible way.

“Harry? Draco? Did you hear my question?” Blaise was waving his hand at the two boys with an amused expression.

Draco cleared his throat. “Uh, could you repeat it Blaise?” Harry looked at the ground. He wanted to be alone with Draco right now, he was done with this blasted party.

“I asked you to please describe the nature of your relationship with Mr. Potter?” Blaise said sweetly, but he flashed a knowing grin at the boys in the center of the circle.

Draco glared at his housemate. “Fine. You all win. We are in the same counseling group and realized we have a lot in common and actually don’t hate hanging out with each other. Then we broke into the Hufflepuff common room,” Draco rolled his eyes at the tittering of some of the Hufflepuffs, “and got drunk together and almost kissed. Harry invited me to his room last night, and we had mindblowing sex that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since. Oh and I genuinely think I am falling in love with him which is bloody terrifying but that’s the truth.”

Draco had a defiant expression on his face as he watched his classmates process this information, but when he turned to Harry there was a striking vulnerability in his eyes.

Harry swallowed the lump that had formed as Draco finished his little speech, “Well, Draco just about covered it.” He looked right at Draco then. “And er - I think I’m falling for you, too.” Harry’s voice cracked.

Draco closed the space between them for another heated kiss. “It’s embarrassing how much I love kissing you, Potter,” he said into Harry’s mouth.

“My room, right now,” Harry practically growled and Draco’s eyes sparked as he nodded and immediately turned to the stairs. 

Harry didn’t look back as he followed.


	6. Chapter 6

When Harry woke up he felt blissfully happy. Last night he and Draco had had even more incredible sex, since now they fully understood each other’s preferences. They had decided to be open about their relationship now that their entire class knew everything. Harry’s heart felt full to bursting at the thought of holding hands with Draco in the corridors, of eating breakfast with him, of pushing him into broom closets and…. Harry shook his head and smiled. He reached across his bed to pull Draco closer to him, but his eyes shot open when all he felt were cold sheets next to him.

Draco was gone.

“What the fuck?” Harry said into his empty room and sat up rubbing his eyes. Sunlight glinted through the window and he slammed his glasses onto his face. 

Draco had left during the night.The thought made him want to be sick. 

Harry sighed and forced himself not to cry. There has to be a perfectly rational explanation for this, he thought as he tossed on a t-shirt and jeans, resolving to grab breakfast in the kitchens to avoid the probing stares of his classmates. He even threw on the invisibility cloak for good measure, trying not to think about what it could mean that Draco had left it behind.

After a warm breakfast with the house elves Harry felt a little better, but if his counseling sessions had taught him anything, he knew he needed to talk to someone.

He grabbed a few pastries and wrapped them in a napkin before slipping the cloak back on and heading back to his dormitory. He stopped outside of Hermione’s door, still invisible and gave a tentative knock. He knew Ron was likely in there with her and desperately hoped he wasn’t interrupting. 

Hermione sleepily opened the door in a dressing gown and looked around for who had knocked.

“It’s me,” Harry whispered. “I’m under the cloak.” 

“Harry?” Hermione raised an eyebrow, but stepped aside to let him in. Ron was indeed inside, sprawled out with a cup of tea next to a roaring fire. Harry pulled the cloak off once the door was safely closed.

“Morning, mate,” Ron didn’t seem too surprised to see Harry. “And how was your night?” He continued in a suggestive tone.

Harry sighed and dropped into Hermione’s desk chair. “I brought muffins,” Harry offered weakly. 

“That bad, eh?” Ron queried as he grabbed for one of the pastries.  
Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Are you okay, Harry?” Hermione asked from where she sat on the edge of her bed. “Did,” she hesitated, “Did Malfoy hurt you?”

Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands. “No,” he responded miserably. “It was actually the best sex I’ve ever had. It was brilliant.” 

Ron spit out his muffin. “I cannot believe you had sex with Malfoy,” the redhead exclaimed. “He’s well, he’s Malfoy.” 

Hermione shook her head, “I actually think it makes a lot of sense. It’s become very clear in our counseling sessions how much you two have in common. You’ve always felt very strong feelings about him. This seemed pretty much inevitable.”

The witch turned to Harry. “So if the sex was so good why are you so upset right now?” She asked in a clinical tone.

Harry felt pathetic. “Well, he er- he left,” he said in a small voice. “He wasn’t there this morning and I thought, I thought he would be,” Harry finished lamely, mortified to feel a lump rise in his throat.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione crossed the room and flung her arms around him. “You poor thing,” she patted his back.

“I know I’ve had a lot of casual sex,” Harry continued and ignored Ron’s snorted “You can say that again.” 

“But this was different. We had decided to be open about our relationship and the thought made me so happy. I feel like an idiot now.” 

Hermione nodded. “Well, why don’t you give him some space today? I’m sure he’s just overwhelmed by everyone finding out the way they did. And I know his last relationship ended in tragedy. I’m sure he’s just working through things. We have counseling all together first thing tomorrow and you can talk everything out then,” she finished with a forced smile.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Harry still felt inexplicably empty. 

“Want to play some quidditch, Harry?” Ron asked and Harry’s spirits rose. That’s what he needed. Some quidditch to get his mind off things.

He nodded and followed Ron out the door and into the September sunshine. 

He couldn’t put Draco out of his mind entirely, but he managed to get through the rest of the day without breaking down, which Harry considered to be a win.

=---------

The next day when Harry arrived to counseling Draco was already there. He felt hopeful as he dropped into the seat next to the grey eyed boy. 

“Hi,” Harry said quietly. “Where’d you get to yesterday? I was surprised to wake up alone.”

Draco’s eyes flashed but he didn’t look at Harry. “I was busy,” he replied coolly. 

Harry furrowed his brow. Did he do something wrong? What was going on?

Before he could ask Draco another question, Healer Catherine swept into the room.

“Hello, today I thought we could discuss our lives before Hogwarts,” she said cheerfully. Harry grimaced. He had thought there was nothing worse than talking about the Durselys, but talking about the Dursley’s while sitting next to the boy he was falling for, who was ignoring him, was just about the worst thing Harry could imagine.

The next hour crawled by painfully slowly. Healer Catherine focused most of her time on Hermione’s muggle upbringing, occasionally asking the others for thoughts. Draco didn’t say a single word and Harry felt himself growing angrier and angrier as the session wore on. He didn’t have a chance to turn the conversation to his issues with Draco and his annoyance grew with each tick of the clock.

By the time Healer Catherine told them that time was up, Harry was at a tipping point.

He watched Draco quietly pack up his things and slip out the door without even a glance and practically growled in frustration.

He burst out of the classroom and glared at Draco’s quickly retreating back.

“You coward,” he shouted down the hall. Draco’s shoulders stiffened and he stopped walking.

“We’re not even going to talk about what happened between us then?” Harry roared. Not caring that everyone in the rapidly filling hall was watching him approach Draco.

“Silly me for thinking it meant something, I guess,” Harry was a few feet from Draco now and could feel the magic radiating off the other boy in waves.

“Turn around and face me,” Harry roared, spit flying from his mouth. “Tell me to my face that the past two days didn’t mean anything for you.”

Draco turned around slowly, still not meeting Harry’s eyes. “It didn’t mean anything,” he said softly, but Harry heard him perfectly.

“YOU. LIAR.” Harry screamed, his temper boiling over as he shot a nonverabal, wandless jinx Draco’s direction.

The crowd around them backed away as Draco easily deflected the jinx with one hand while sending a hex sailing towards Harry with his wand.

Harry blocked it and sent something sailing back, feeling adrenaline spike in his veins. 

“Are we really doing this, Potter?” Draco spat as he danced away from another spell. 

“Call. Me. Harry,” Harry grunted while sending a barrage of jinxes at the blonde. Draco parried and ducked and blocked every single one with grace.

“My cock was up your ass, the least you could do is use my first name,” he said nastily. 

Draco faltered but didn’t fail to get a spell off as the duel continued in a blinding display of flashing lights.

If Harry were in his right mind, he’d have acknowledged that he and Draco were good matches. His classmates never lasted this long in duels against him and Draco was actually giving him a run for his money.

The two boys stopped talking entirely and opted for fast paced nonverbal magic flying back and forth down the long hall. They ducked and jumped and paried and neither of them could land a hit.

This continued for a few minutes before a familiar voice rang out down the corridor, immediately filling Harry with shame.

“What on EARTH, is going on here?” McGonagall’s voice dispersed their audience and Harry and Draco both lowered their wands guiltily. 

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy,” she began. “Was I a fool for believing you were beyond these childish displays?” 

She looked between the boys, neither of whom would meet her eyes. “Both of you follow me, we’re going to my office.”

Harry and Draco followed their headmistress through the halls sheepishly and Harry’s mind raced. He hadn’t let his temper get the best of him like that in ages. The heartbreak of Draco’s denial had really caused him to lose control.

As they reached the statue guarding the headmistress’s office, Harry sighed. He had no idea what Draco was thinking and he desperately wanted to know. He was starting to feel like maybe he had dreamed the past few days and their confessions of feelings for one another.

McGonagall swept into her office and sat primly behind the desk. It was still strange to see the space without all of Dumbledore’s trinkets, but Harry thought McGonagall rather suited the role of headmistress.

“Please sit,” The witch indicated the two chairs in front of her desk. Harry and Draco awkwardly lowered themselves into them.

“Now,” she began sternly. “Would one of you care to explain what just happened?” 

Harry and Draco remained silent. Harry looked around the room a bit more. He made eye contact with Dumbledore’s portrait and had to bite back a chuckle when the old man winked. He was surprised to see the portrait of Snape had a slight smile on his face as well. Interesting.

Harry let his mind wander as he waited for Draco to speak up and he found himself thinking about the way Draco looked when Harry had first slipped inside him. The expression of passion and pleasure and pure trust was something that Harry would never forget. The anger boiled within him once again and he found his body involuntarily turning towards Draco.

“Draco,” He began calmly. “I’m sorry for hexing you in the hallway, I was just very upset.” Harry cleared his throat and Draco slowly raised his eyes to Harry’s.

When their eyes met Harry forgot to breathe. “I was upset because you left on Sunday morning and you didn’t say good-bye and I thought, I thought what happened between us meant more to you than that. I thought we had decided to be open about our relationship and the idea of being able to simply hold your hand in the corridors made me indescribably happy” 

Harry heard McGonagall gasp but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the boy sitting next to him with the cool grey eyes.

Harry watched as Draco schooled his features into a practiced smirk. “You thought wrong, Potter. It was just sex. Don’t get all Hufflepuff on me now.” 

Harry leapt to his feet before he could think twice and grabbed Draco by the shoulders.

“Don’t call me, Potter,” He yelled, recognizing that his voice was bordering on hysterical. “How could you call me Potter, after everything?” Harry was shaking now. “I thought we had something, I was falling in lo-” Harry cut himself off suddenly. “I thought after everything we learned about each other in our counseling sessions, after everything we said to each other on Saturday, that this meant something to you,” he finished with tears in his eyes.

Draco closed his eyes and Harry felt him shake as well. He reluctantly let go of the boy’s shoulders.

“The last time I had sex with someone, he died,” Draco whispered. “I-I can’t go through that again, I can’t fall for you and then lose you and have it all be my fault,” Draco was crying openly now and Harry stared at him open mouthed. “I woke up in the middle of the night wrapped in your arms and my heart felt so full, I just panicked. I - I didn’t think I’d have this again and I can’t go through losing the person I love again.”

“Draco,” he replied, wiping a tear from Draco’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere.” Draco shut his eyes and pressed his cheek into Harry’s hand.

“Besides I already died,” Harry continued softly. “I reckon I’ve got a while before that happens again,” he chuckled quietly, stepping even closer to Draco and trailing his hand along the boy's jaw.

“You’re not going to lose me, Draco.” 

Draco’s eyes blazed and he closed the space between them in a slow, powerful kiss. Harry felt the magic around them settle and he didn’t know if it was his or Draco’s or a combination of the two and he didn’t care because Draco Malfoy was kissing him again and Draco Mafloy had admitted that he loved him. Harry felt like he could dance and scream and sing in front of the entire Hogwarts student body.

Draco’s lips were soft and warm and welcoming and Harry melted into them, his hand still on Draco’s cheek rubbing soft circles with his thumb. A low hum came from one of them, Harry wasn’t sure who and he heard McGonagall clear her throat.

“Oh please, Minerva,” Harry heard Dumbledore’s voice break the silence. “Let them have just a minute.”

“They deserve more than a minute,” Harry was surprised to hear Snape’s voice join Dumbledore’s. “They deserve a lifetime.” 

Harry felt Draco smile against his lips and knew that he had heard their former potion’s professor, as well.

He listened as McGonagall quietly exited her office and sighed as Draco raised a hand to his hair.   
He could get used to a lifetime of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
